


Let's Kill Together

by Bangin_Lore



Series: Outland Legends [1]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Artillery, Bunker, Gen, Hunt, Singh Labs, Skull Town, Thunderdome, relay, wetlands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bangin_Lore/pseuds/Bangin_Lore
Summary: The new season of the Apex Games has begun and the new competitors have arrived. They each have their own reasons for being there and they all expect to make enemies ... not friends.
Series: Outland Legends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766635
Kudos: 14





	1. Bloodhound On The Tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Games have begun and Bloodhound seeks their first kill.

The dome had largely collapsed and the thunder of the crowd had dissipated to living rooms across the Outlands. Bloodhound could not say what had drawn them to this place, the arena within an arena. They stalked the area where more blood had been spilt than anywhere else on Kings Canyon; the cages that would have housed the yet-to-be unleashed gladiators had rusted in the sea air, the bins which they would race to for weapons were empty.

From the cage that hung above the battlefield they had an excellent view of the surrounding hunting ground. Despite its elevated position, it was a lot more sheltered than one might have thought however it did groan occasionally in the sea breeze that did manage to make it past the protective mesa.

Artur circled the cage, squawking impatiently. “Patience,” Bloodhound urged, their mask hiding the wry smile beneath. Perched on the edge of the cage, looking north they could see the airbase on the west coast, to their east a large storage facility. Skull Town lay to the north-east however it was obscured by both the northern wall of the dome and the giant rib cage of a leviathan which had succumbed long before the first settlers had arrived.

Outside of Artur’s occasional agitated croak and the gentle, distant hum of the network drones, Kings Canyon was quiet, almost peaceful. It was interrupted at that moment by the surprisingly kind voice of The Announcer; “Attention; delivering care package.” The raven crowed excitedly and this time they did not berate him. They checked their map; the nearest drop was just north-west of Skull Town. If they left now they might reach it first … but where was the fun in that?

To the ordinary eye it might look like no one had been in Skull Town in a long time; to the tracker’s eye the deception was obvious. The layer of dust was too shallow and the disrepair was too neat. They approached a large hole where a window should have been, there was no broken glass on the ground and in the frame there were no jagged remnants. The Syndicate had gone to great lengths to ensure that the only injury the competitors suffered was at each other’s hands.

They found an old backpack on the floor, which had gathered significantly less dust than everything else in the room. Soon after they found some shield cells and syringes of nano-meds to put in it. They activated the two shield cells they were permitted; storing the rest until they could upgrade, and climbed to the top of one of the central towers. From there they made their way via a conveniently placed girder to of the leviathan’s spine.

They looked to the sky as a distant roar signaled the arrival of the care package and watched the plume of smoke descend from the Syndicate’s Games Hub in the upper atmosphere. They moved along the gigantic spine, bounding from one vertebra to another until they reached a point where they could observe the pod settle, throwing up clouds of sand to cover its landing. They crouched and they waited, knowing that the Syndicate would not have dropped a package unless they felt it might lead to some sort of action.

From this distance they could tell he was a large man - a cautious man too, his head turning this way and that in search of opponents. They watched the steam escape as he opened the storage units, there was a flash of blue as he activated the shield upgrade inside. They smiled to themselves as the figure skulked off; powerful prey always made for a better hunt.

Whoever he was, he had not left anything worth salvaging but he had left a trail of footprints leading north. Based on the length and depth of his strides, they estimated that he measured 190 centimetres and weighed 120 kilograms; a formidable foe whose blood would truly honour the Allfather.

They did not need to follow the tracks for long as they were leading them towards _the_ plateau at the foot of which sat a set of large blast doors. They approached the bunker cautiously from the side, creeping up to a small shelf where two exhausted generators sat. From there they surveyed the tracks of sand in the small courtyard, confirming that their prey had not doubled back. They dropped silently to the ground and peaked through the small window in the blast doors but the bunker turned left immediately and then right, preventing them from seeing anything except blank, grey walls.

The doors must have been twelve feet high and weighed well over a tonne, there was no way of opening them without alerting the bunker’s occupants to their presence. That was assuming he was still in the bunker; if he had merely used it as a shortcut to the town on the other side then the longer they stood here, the further away he got.

As they expected the doors opened with a stentorian effort but what they weren’t expecting was the sudden eruption of green gas. They coughed instinctively and took several steps backwards however it soon became apparent that whatever toxins the gas contained were being filtered out by their breathing apparatus. They took cover whilst the gas cleared and then stepped forward, their eyes on the corner from around which their prey could attack. Keeping their ears peeled for footsteps, they crouched to examine the trap. It had undoubtedly been activated by the movement of the doors and even though the gas was ineffective, it still impaired visibility. They would have to be careful. They looked up at Artur, perched on the shelf. "You shall wait here," they commanded. Artur squawked indignantly.

They stalked deeper into the bunker until they came to two identical rooms on either side of the passage. Hunkering down to examine the small traces of sand, they concluded that he had entered both rooms (and probably set a trap in each as well) but that their prey had entered the left-hand room more recently. Whether he was still inside was another matter. The doorways at the other end of the rooms were two far away and they could not reach them without being seen through the large windows of each room. They could see partially into the rooms but they hoped he would not be so foolish as to hide in plain sight.

The door opened slowly with a gentle push; there was a delicate click as it struck something in its path followed by a familiar hissing sound as the emerald cloud emerged. They slipped noiselessly inside under its cover … or so they thought.

Their knees buckled under the sudden impact of his weight upon their back, his arms slithered around their neck while his legs wrapped themselves around their waist. Their advantage was that he thought they had been weakened by the gas. They pivoted quickly, slamming their assailant into the wall; his grip loosed enough for them to get their fingers underneath and with a huge effort they flipped him off their back and onto his own.

He was quick for a man his size and back on his feet, tackling them before they could take the upper hand. The pair tussled for several seconds; Bloodhound hammering the man’s back while he tried to turn them until he was in a position to push himself away from the wall with a heavy boot. They were propelled through the open door with such force that they crashed through the door of the opposite room.

The two parties separated on impact with the ground and were engulfed as a third gas trap was set off. Bloodhound tried to get to their feet but somehow he found them in the pall and pinned one hand behind their back while his other arm crept around their throat again. A deep, gravelly voice intoned; “Breathe it in,” and they realised that he wasn’t trying to choke them, merely restrain them.

They slowly reduced their struggling and let out a theatrical cough now and then. The gas dispersed slowly and the grip on their throat and arm loosened. He dropped them to the floor unceremoniously and crouched over them for a closer examination - he didn’t notice their fingers subtly find a shard of glass from the smashed door. They opened their eyes and began stabbing furiously at his chest, the quicker to break through his shield. He roared, picked them up by their leather jerkin and flung them across the room.

“Impossible,” he growled, striding over as they got to their feet.

“The gods have willed it,” they said, pressing a button on their wristband. They closed their eyes, savouring the rush as the hormones entered their bloodstream; calming yet completely invigorating. They opened them again in time to dodge his first punch, their sharpened reflexes caught the second but something was wrong - his heat signature wasn’t registering. The third punch caught them square in the jaw and they collapsed to the floor.

They felt his weight upon their chest, they felt the blows land but there was no pain or injury as their own shield refused to buckle. Eventually he tired and breathing heavily through his gas mask he stood up; “The evidence would suggest that we are not enemies,” he said.

They sat up and readjusted their head gear. “Fate has set us on the same path.”

“I prefer to work alone,” he grumbled.

“The Allfather does not care what you prefer,” they said. Behind his mask, they saw his eyes roll. “You do not have to believe in the gods to obey their will.” They reached out their hand.

“You may call it fate,” he said, taking their hand and pulling them to their feet, “I call it luck.”


	2. Singh And Be Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wraith is searching the remnants of Singh Laboratories when she is rudely interrupted.

There was nothing of value or interest in the small jumble of buildings. They weren’t even laboratories, let alone the ones of which she had only the faintest recollections. She couldn’t determine their purpose devoid as they were of any furniture that might offer the faintest clue.

She always knew that it wouldn’t be the same but she had hoped something might jog her buried memories. Even The Voices were quiet as she stared out of the first floor window onto the scorched landscape. She wondered what had happened to cause such unique and isolated destruction; could it be linked in any way to her own past.

She looked up at the sound of movement on the roof and had put it down to birds when a robotic head dropped into her line of sight and a loud, friendly voice yelled “Surprise!” causing her to jump several inches into the air. “I hope I didn’t scare you,” the voice said with a note of concern as the robot’s head tilted slightly.

There were a lot of questions running around her head but loudest of all was why her's was the only voice asking them? However they were all questions that did not need to be answered immediately, the more pressing issue was that she was unarmed and trained as she was in various martial arts, she did not fancy her chances in hand-to-hand combat with an automaton. Better to beat a hasty retreat than get beaten.

As she exited the building she heard a clunk as the robot dropped to the ground. She hurried in the opposite direction but loud metal footsteps followed her. She turned a corner suddenly to double-back around the building; there was crunching of metal on metal followed by a swoosh and the robot was standing in front of her again.

“Hi, friend!” it said, holding out its arms as if for a hug.

She could see now, that like her, it was unarmed and seeing no viable escape, she decided to strike first. It fell back under her assault, some of her punches and kicks landed whilst others were blocked but not once did the robot counter. She fell back to breath, taking a defensive stance as she waited for an onslaught that didn’t come. “That was exciting,” it said in that annoyingly positive voice.

She didn’t respond but watched her opponent for several seconds as it stood there, arms by its side watching her with the optical scanner that was fitted where a face ought to be, a small screen embedded into its chest was displaying a large yellow smiley face. “What are you?” Wraith asked, relaxing her stance slightly.

“I am a Mobile Robotic Versatile Entity,” he declared, holding out its hand. “You can call me Marvin!”

“OK, Marvin,” she said, eyeing the appendage suspiciously, “are you part of the arena?”

“I am a competitor,” he boasted, puffing out his chest as a flexing arm emoticon appeared on the screen.

Her arms jumped back up into a defensive position; “Let’s do this,” she growled.

A frowning emoji replaced the arm as he asked; “You wish to fight?”

“I wish to win,” she corrected, launching herself into a roundhouse kick.

“Great!” Marvin said as her foot connected harmlessly with his head. “We will defeat all of our enemies!”

“We?” she repeated, pausing mid-punch. “No one said anything about this being a team sport.”

“I will wait if you would like to waste more energy trying to kill me,” Marvin spread out his arms and stood patiently.

“How do I know you’re not going to kill me as soon as I turn my ba-” the air should have been knocked from her chest as one of his metal arms shot forward with a ferocious jab. She staggered backwards but there was no pain, merely a flash of white.

“Your shield has not been compromised,” Marvin stated cheerfully.

She checked and sure enough, her shield was at full capacity. “How did you know I’d activated my shield?”

His head tilted sideways again and then he turned and made off towards the nearest building with a cheerful; “We are exposed, we should get inside.”

“Marvin!” she said, watching him lurch away. “You did know I had activated my shield, didn’t you?” He kept going. “Stop!” she commanded.

 _I think we should kill him anyway_ suggested one of The Voices as she walked around to stand in front of him. “If we are going to work as a team, I need to know that I can trust you; did you know that I had activated my shields?”

“I calculated that there was a 91% probability that you had active shields,” he answered gladly.

She raised an eyebrow. “How did you find me? Were you followed?” she asked, looking around.

_We’ll keep an eye out._

“You didn’t before,” she replied before she could stop herself.

“I do not understand,” he said, question marks marching across the screen.

“Never mind, I wasn’t talking to you!”

_We didn’t warn you because we didn’t see him - he was on the roof._

“We’ll talk about it later,” Wraith said angrily, turning her head as if talking to someone next to her. Marvin was watching her and even though he had no facial expressions, he was oozing bemusement. “You’re right,” Wraith said, “we should move inside; I don’t like talking in the open like this.”

“Good idea, friend!”

The nearest building was one that Wraith had already searched. He didn’t close the door behind him, so she did, glancing suspiciously outside as she did so. “How did you find me?” she asked, leading him upstairs.

“I heard you!”

“You heard me?” she turned to face him on the landing.

“You were very noisy.”

“OK,” she conceded, making a mental note to be quieter. “Where did you come from?”

“I do not know; I was booted up in a laboratory-”

“In the arena,” she interrupted bluntly, rolling her eyes, “which direction did you come from?”

“I came from the swamplands east of here! It was very wet and unpleasant.”

“Did you see anyone else there or on your way here?”

“No, friend, you are the first fellow competitor I have encountered.”

“You keep calling me ‘friend’,” she observed menacingly.

“We are on the same team!” he pointed out.

“That does not make us friends.”

“What should I call you?”

“Wraith is fine,” she grunted.

“Wraith,” he repeated thoughtfully, “a ghost or ghostlike image of someone.”

“You’re a dictionary too?”

“No, I am a Mobile Robotic Versatile-”

“I was joking,” she sighed, cutting across him.

“So was I,” he said, a laughing emoji on show.

She humoured him with a sardonic smile; “I don’t suppose you have any food in your backpack?”

“I found these in the swamp,” he answered, fishing out some protein bars.

She took them, keeping her eyes fixed on the optical scanner. “Did you know we’d be put onto teams?”

“I did not,” he answered, “however I am programmed to prepare for all scenarios.”

She moved to the window to eat in some semblance of privacy. “I guess that’s why they call you versatile,” she observed.

“I was aptly named,” he agreed.

_We’re about to find out how versatile he is._

Wraith sighed and lowered the bar. “Is it not to your satisfaction?” he asked.

“Later,” she whispered, handing it back to him,.“We’re not alone.”


	3. An Officer And A Gentle-Makoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bangalore finds herself in debt to a fellow contestant.

He had a loud bark of a laugh that reminded Bangalore of her brother, although he had not laughed nearly half as much as Gibraltar did. She was beginning to think it might be some kind of nervous tick; even as she had clung for her life over the chasm at the relay station, he had made some forgettable wisecrack before grabbing her forearm and yanking her to safety. “Lucky I was here,” he had boomed, clapping her on the back with such force that she had almost fallen over the edge again.

“What’s your name, soldier?” she had asked.

“Makoa Gibraltar,” he replied, holding out a hand, “but I ain’t no soldier!” he added with a chuckle.

“You became one the moment you arrived in the arena,” she told him, reaching out and taking his forearm as he took hold of hers. “You should have let me die.”

“Falling down there ain’t no way for a contender to die - also, it doesn’t make good TV, haha,” he added pointing to skies.

“I owe you my life,” she said reluctantly, “but when the debt is paid, you better beat a hasty retreat.”

“Haha, or maybe I’ll just beat you,” he said with a wink. “What do I call you?”

“Sergeant Williams,” she answered after a moment’s hesitation. “Where’d you come from?” she asked, looking around. He pointed to the buildings on the other side of the chasm. “You find any weapons?”

“Just some medical supplies and shields. You?”

“Same. What about communications?”

“Communications?” he repeated suspiciously. “We’re being broadcast across the Outlands.”

“Edited too,” she pointed out.

He had laughed again; “Tell me you didn’t enter the games to make a phone call!”

“Not quite,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s been too long since I held cold steel,” she said abruptly, checking her map, “there’s an artillery just west of here - hopefully it’s stocked.”

It was not. It was deserted and contained nothing of any tactical advantage. There were some land vehicles and even an abandoned drop ship but they were all in dire need of a service. She kept Gibraltar in her sights as she explored the compound, which wasn’t difficult as he stayed relatively close to her without actually following her.

“We should camp here tonight,” she declared, looking to the darkening sky.

“Whatever you say, bruddah,” he agreed. “You wanna take the first watch?”

“Affirmative.”

They set up camp in a storeroom atop the warehouse in the north-east corner. From there they had a decent view of all three entrances into the compound. “You sure this is a good idea?” he asked with a wry smile, standing beside her with his hands on his hips.

“We may be in a corner but we have three exit strategies, unless we’re unlucky enough to be ambushed by three enemies. Also, the fact that we don’t have guns, means they don’t either.” He shrugged and went inside to sleep.

The night was cold and Bangalore patrolled the shadow of the storeroom to keep warm. Two hours into the watch she heard something - a voice; distant but amplified by the high walls. She dropped to the deck and crawled to the edge. A figure was walking across the far side of the compound, it looked as though they had emerged from the service tunnel. In light shone by the droid floating alongside, Bangalore could see that the figure was definitely female and unlikely to be a threat judging by her devil-may-care attitude to stealth. She could not make out what was being said but it was a constant stream of speech, presumably directed at her robotic companion.

The intruder exited the artillery the same way Bangalore and Gibraltar had entered. Bangalore lay on the ground for an hour after she had disappeared while her eyes were constantly roving.

“Did I miss anything?” Gibraltar asked cheerily when he came to relieve her.

“One hostile entered the compound from the tunnel,” she pointed and then dragged her finger along the hostile’s route, “exiting the way we came in. Keep ‘em sharp,” she said.

“Haha, nothing gets past me,” he answered confidently. “Get some rest and we’ll go hunting in the morning.”

She was awoken by the sound of a magazine clicking into place. Her eyes opened instantaneously and she jumped to her feet. “We got guns,” Gibraltar said happily, showing off his R-99 sub-machine gun.

“How?” she asked, striding outside into the sun.

“About an hour ago, those trap doors opened and the supply bins just rose up,” he said, pointing.

“Did you abandon your watch?” she demanded firmly. “While I was sleeping?”

“Haha, my mother always told me not to wake a sleeping woman!”

“Your mother didn’t sleep in a battlefield,” she snapped.

“That’s a fair point, bruddah, next time, I wake you,” he conceded jovially.

She accepted his apology with a curt no. He had called her “bruddah” again, was it a deliberate attempt to build familiarity. She didn’t remark on it but jumped down from the warehouse and approached the nearest supply bin which her companion had already looted. He had left one thermite grenade that she threw into her backpack.

She smiled as she reached the second supply bin for inside was P2020 pistol. She picked it up and gave it the same reminiscent look one might give an old friend. The moment was brief as she became aware that Gibraltar was watching her with a curious expression. She collected the spare magazines and moved to the next bin.

By the time she had finished looting she had also equipped herself with a Longbow sniper rifle and a couple more thermite grenades. “We should clear out,” she said. “If our friend from last night has realised that there are guns in the arena, she might come back-”

She stopped mid-sentence at the sudden burst of distant gunfire. “Haha, I think they’ve realised,” Gibraltar said.

She pulled back the barrel on her pistol, loading a bullet into the chamber. “Let’s make it rain.”


	4. Just The Two Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage makes an enemy ... or two.

There were two them in the building but it didn’t seem like they had any guns, if they did they surely would have shot him by now- or tried to. What were they going to do, throw rocks at him? Actually, that would hurt but they were in a building. Buildings didn’t have rocks.

What were they doing in there anyway? Were they allowed team up? No one told him they were allowed team up - or maybe they did. He hadn’t really been paying attention but what was there to pay attention to? Get in, kill everyone, win; there wasn’t much to explain but apparently _some_ people needed a two hour presentation.

They knew he was near, the pale chick had already seen Mirage. He had a lot of fun, sending out the decoy again and again, imagining their confusion when it faded away into nothing. Because they were in a box with only two windows, he was able to move around and taunt them with Mirage jogging out from different angles, it reminded him of the cartoons where the characters would run around through different doors.

What _were_ they doing in their though? What he wouldn’t give to be stuck in a room with whatshername - his life. Thinking about it, he probably wouldn’t give his life because here, that was the only thing on the line. Still though, he couldn’t believe he was jealous of a robot. That one in particular.

Whilst the smiling robot may not be welcome to her, she was certainly welcome to him. Elliott couldn’t believe he’d actually qualified. He considered himself pretty amm… - pretty amy… - pretty friendly but that robot had really tested his patience. Creator this, creator that, after a couple of decades you’d think he might have moved on … his creator certainly had.

The sun was getting low and Elliott was getting tired of teasing his captors and he was also getting tired in general. He needed his beauty sleep after all. There was also the tinsy matter of the two of them outnumbering the one of him. The Syndicate were bound to put guns into the arena at some point and he definitely didn’t want to be one v two when that happened. He was good but he wasn’t _that_ good.

He looked at his map. The wetlands was nearby and there seemed to be another cluster of buildings there. Strange he thought, considering the name. Elliott sent Mirage out once more to distract his enemies while he slipped off into the dawn. Or was it the dusk?

He went from building to building, sending Mirage ahead each time to lure out any competitors that may be lurking. He picked up some more shield cells and syringes and he even found an upgrade for his backpack. He stored away most of the protein bars he found, the few he ate were not very nice - in fact they were disgusting. Surely there must be a canteen or a shop somewhere on the island. He checked his map; Skull Town would surely have a shop - oh wait, there was a market. Perfect! He might even be able to get some product for his hair. He could get up early and cross the river at Bridges (Who named these towns?), hopefully without the robot and his female friend noticing.

It was a dry night, so what the heck, he decided to sleep beneath the stars. He was soon to be one after all. He used some old rags he found as a blanket and chose the roof of the highest building that looked out on the scarred land between the wetlands and the labs. He pulled down his goggles and lay down on the cold concrete, looking up at the distant lights. “G’night, mom,” he muttered before switching his goggles to blackout mode.

He awoke, face down in puddle of his own drool, was it drool? Whatever it was, he was sure it wouldn’t look good on camera. He sat up, pulled off his goggles and set them to mirrored so he could check his hair before cleaning the saliva off his face. He looked groggily across at the labs but it was impossible to tell whether the others were still there. He hoped they got a worse night’s sleep than he did.

He stood and stretched his aching back. He was dusting himself down when a bullet flew past his head. He dropped to the ground before the second one could even leave the barrel. Well, at least he knew they were awake. Thinking he was probably still visible lying face down on the roof, he decided not to stay there. He rolled over to the edge and dropped down to the actual ground behind the building, out of the shooter’s sights.

Mirage ran west to draw their fire while Elliott headed to the other buildings in the wetlands facility, muttering profanities about his lack of a weapon. It was hugely unfair. Did everyone have a gun, that was even unfairer. Had they deliberately waited till he was asleep before handing out the guns? He was so lost in these thoughts, he almost missed the large red and white cylindrical tube that had definitely not been there yesterday.

He eyed it suspiciously and approached with caution. It reminded him of a sun bed and as much as he was in need of a top-up, now probably wasn’t the time. He pressed the button which he hoped would open it and not cause it to explode. There was a hissing sound and the lid slowly lifted up. His eyes widened and a grin crept onto his lips, shortly followed by the words; “Hello, beautiful!”

There was a crash of metal, a whooshing sound and a loud familiar voice announced; “I’m coming for you, friend!” Elliott grabbed the wingman pistol and traced one-handed the course of the flying robot. The robot landed, Elliott laughed, Elliott fired, and Elliott missed as his arm jolted upwards with the recoil, sending the bullet way over the robot’s shoulder.

“Oops,” he whimpered.

“You’ll have to try harder to beat me,” the robot said, raising what looked like an assault rifle. Elliott admired the gun with an envious groan.

Mirage dashed right, Elliott ran left, hopping over the barrier to another lower level - maybe they shouldn’t have built here after all. The robot took the bait and Elliott couldn’t help chortling as he ran for cover in a nearby building. Stupid robot.

He threw open the doors, there was a bang and he was propelled backwards. That wasn’t usually how doors worked. Despite landing on his back, his gut gave him the most pain. He touched the area gently with his fingers and felt a warm wetness, that wasn’t good. He pulled them away and saw the red, even worse. Not like this, not so soon. He raised his head to inspect the damage. His suit had been shredded by the shot, which wasn’t so bad; he had known it was going to get a little messy. No, it was the polka-shot flesh underneath that worried him.

He raised his gaze to the door from which the pale chick was walking towards him with the shotgun resting on her shoulder. She looked very cool. He wanted to look that cool after killing someone. This was so unfair. The robot dropped down beside him, at least it hadn’t been him. Killed by a machine, that would be embarrassing.

They were saying something but he wasn’t listening, what was the point? It was all over. No doubt it was something smart and quippy. He hoped mom wasn’t watching. If she was, he hoped she wouldn’t remember.

There was a burst of machine gun fire and he winced, closing his eyes on death … but it didn't come. Had they missed? Surely not at this distance. He opened his eyes but there was no sign of the robot or the girl. He raised his head and saw them retreating under a flesh blaze of fire. Great, someone else would get to kill him. This day was just going from bad to worse.

But maybe he didn’t have to die at all. He gritted his teeth with pain as he struggled to get his backpack off and out from underneath himself. He needed to find some cover, who knew how far away the wielder of the machine gun was. He shuffled backwards awkwardly trying to ignore the pain and the blood that was still insisting on leaving his body.

A young woman carrying a light machine gun strode into his periphery. He froze, the syringe inches from his vein. So close! “Don’t worry,” she said.

 _What?_ he thought.

“I got ya.”


	5. Trigger Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four combatants with unlikely alliances soon realise that The Game has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!!!

“My name is Ajay,” she said, grabbing him under his armpits and dragging him into the nearest building, looking around for signs of his assailants in case they came back to finish the job. “And dis is Doc,” she added as she set him down in the corner of what appeared to be a storage room. The heal drone moved close to the man and a glowing tentacle began feeding nano-meds directly into his bloodstream.

“I’m Elliott,” he said, sitting up as the meds did their work. “Or you can call me Mirage ... I’m easy, I don’t mind.”

“Ya got some shield cells? They might come back,” she warned, taking a peek outside.

“Oh I’ve got plenty of shield cells,” he grumbled sardonically, taking some from his pack. “There wasn’t much else to loot. And thanks by the way,” he said, “you know, for everything.” He nodded to the heal drone.

“Two on one’s not a fair fight,” she said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Especially when the two have better guns,” he remarked bitterly. “When did they arrive anyway?”

“The guns? Dis morning, did ya sleep late?”

“I always sleep late,” he said proudly.

“In here - ya can’t afford to sleep,” she warned, surprised that she had to give him such obvious advice because he was definitely several years older than she was. “What gun ya got anyway?” He unholstered the wingman. “‘Tis a powerful gun but ya need a good eye.”

“I’ve got four good eyes,” he said with a sleazy smile and she started as a holographic duplicate sprang from his body as if by mitosis and jogged out of the building.

She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by a hail of gunfire. They both ducked despite already being inside and she glanced out in time to see the duplicate fade into nothingness. “Ya think they saw that?” She asked snidely.

There was an aggressive popping sound and a smoke grenade came rolling into the building. Ajay stood still, knowing that panic was the desired outcome. The room slowly filled with smoke but Ajay neither moved nor spoke, hoping that Elliott, whom she now very much regretted helping, would have the sense to do the same.

The silence was broken by the sound of the door on perpendicular wall being flung open. She opened fire blindly. So did Elliott.

It was over before the smoke cleared. Ajay glanced to her left, Elliott was huddled in the corner between the two doorways recharging his shields. “That was fun! ... Right?” He said with a cheeky grin.

She peaked around the large stack of boxes in the middle of the room and saw a large man slumped in the far corner. She dispatched Doc to heal both herself and Elliot, and moved over to him, throwing the spitfire across her back as she took out her mozambique shotgun. “Dis is just how it is,” she said and pulled the trigger.Or at least tried to.

“Looks like you’re empty,” drawled a cool, female voice behind her. But she wasn’t, she couldn’t be. Ajay turned to face this new assailant with a look of confusion.

The woman was holding a P2020 pistol and it was aimed directly at Ajay’s chest. The bullet struck and Ajay staggered. She glanced down and saw the bullet dance delicately along the floor where it had fallen. She checked her readings -her shield was damaged but intact. She raised the mozambique and blasted the woman in the stomach before ducking for cover to recharge her shield as several bullets struck stacked boxes.

“You can’t hide forever,” the woman sneered.

“She doesn’t have to,” Ajay heard Elliott say, followed by a gun shot. She took advantage of the momentary distraction, stepped out and fired two rounds, breaking the woman’s shield with the first and her skin with the second.

Elliott was quick to step in and kick away the pistol. “We make a good team but we could be great if these guns worked properly,” he remarked, examining the wingman.

“Whatcha mean?” Ajay asked.

“It didn’t do any damage; maybe it was her shields.” He aimed at the fallen woman and pulled the trigger but Ajay could see that as with her mozambique, the trigger resisted.

“Lemme have look,” Ajay said, holding out her hand for the weapon. Elliott placed it in her hand and she fired a bullet into the woman’s thigh.

“What the-?” Elliott said, tailing off as he noticed that the woman on the ground was laughing. “What’s wrong with her?” He asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“How should I know?” Ajay asked indignantly.

“Squads,” the woman chuckled through a painful grimace.

“Squads?” They both repeated.

“You fired a full magazine at Gibraltar,” she coughed, blood trickling out of the side of her mouth, “he should be dead already.”

“Keep an eye on her,” Ajay told Elliott. The large man known as Gibraltar was still wheezing heavily as he bled out. She crouched down beside him, unable to prevent herself putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, she examined his wounds. All three of them.

“Hey,” Elliott called, “what are you doing over there?”

“Ya shot him,” she observed.

“Yeh,” Elliott scoffed, “duh!”

“No,” she said standing, “ _only_ you shot him. It’s like she said, I don’t think I even broke his shield.” She activated Doc for Gibraltar and strode over to the woman on the ground. Ignoring Elliott’s protestations she took a syringe from her bag and injected the nano-meds into her shoulder. “Whatcha know?”

“As much as you do,” the woman sighed, as the nanos set about healing her wounds.

“I’m confused,” Elliott said loudly. “Aren’t we meant to be killing each other?” He asked in exasperation.

“Calm down, brudda,” Gibraltar groaned, as he got to his feet.

“I don’t remember ya complainin’ when I saved YOUR life,” Ajay remarked and Elliott went quiet, although she thought she heard a mumbled “obviously not”.

“I’m Sergeant Williams,” the woman said, “what’s upstairs?” She asked before Ajay could introduce herself .

“I don’t know,” Ajay replied, raising an eyebrow at Elliott who responded with a surly shrug.

“We need to talk and I don’t like the idea of doing it in an open doorway.” Ajay placed her hand cautiously on the grip of her mozambique as the sergeant strode past her, and withdrew it and as she reached down to pick up the P2020 pistol. There was movement to her left and she glanced over to see Gibraltar pointing his submachine gun at her.

“Easy now,” he said coolly.

“Hey, big guy, she saved your life,” Elliott said, taking aim at Gibraltar.

“And he saved mine,” Sergeant Williams said. Ajay watched her slowly pick up the pistol and holster it on her hip.

Ajay followed suit and indicated to Elliott that he should do the same. She then turned and closed the doors behind her. Gibraltar closed the other set. They stood for several seconds, watching each other.

“I’m just gonna say it,” Elliott broke the silence, “you all have two guns while I only have one and it’s making me very uncomfortable.”

“There are more pressing concerns at the moment,” Sergeant Williams stated bluntly, “like the fact that the one gun you do have, doesn’t work properly.”

“It worked fine on him,” Elliott said defensively and Ajay watched bemused as he held the gun to his chest as it if it were a vulnerable creature.

“It worked for _me_ ,” Ajay pointed out. “But my gun didn’t work on him,” she said, pointing to Gibraltar. Ajay turned to Sergeant Williams; “Ya mentioned something about squads?”

“I did - You could shoot me, _he_ could not, despite using the same gun. You emptied a magazine on Gibraltar yet dealt no damage, his wounds were dealt by you partner, is that correct?”

“I don’t like the word “partner” but that’s the gist of it,” Ajay replied.

“I think they’ve put us into squads of at least two; my squadmate is ...” she waved her hand vaguely at Elliott. He introduced himself with a flirty wink and Ajay had to turn her head to hide her snickering.

Sergeant Williams rolled her eyes. “Meanwhile Gibraltar, it would seem you’ve been teamed with-“

“Ajay,” she said, a smile still playing on her lips as she strode over with an outstretched hand.

“This is an awkward situation,” Williams said.

“Hey, don’t feel awkward,” Elliott said, “I’ll try not to let your attraction to me get in the way of winning this thing.”

“You’re a moron,” Williams stated, “and even though we’ve only _just_ met, I already know that I would stand a better chance of winning this thing alone. It’s awkward because we are both indebted to _them_.”

“The awkwardness will be short lived,” a gravely voice said from above, “as shall your lives.”


	6. Back To Lifeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following his death Gibraltar finds himself back on the island but something’s not quite right.

“Papa?” said a soft female voice to Gibraltar’s right.

“Yes Natalie?” replied a male voice somewhere to his left.

“Something’s not right, I think he’s waking up.”

“He shouldn’t be; Lifeline retrieved his dog tags, no?” the man who would appear to be her father said, his voice becoming louder as he approached.

Gibraltar tried to open his eyes but he couldn’t find them. It was as though his hearing was the only one of his five senses that was awake, like he was a cloud of gas with no physical presence. He chuckled at the image ... or at least he thought about chuckling but he couldn’t find his mouth either.

“His brain activity is definitely increasing,” Natalie said in alarm. “Should we sedate him?”

“We can’t,” her father replied in concern, “it could compromise the respawn. Are you sure these readings are accurate?”

Gibraltar was 99% certain that he was the ‘him’ they were talking about but what they were saying made no sense to him. Who was Lifeline and what was a respawn? Neither did he know how he got wherever here was ... he remembered green, a lot of green. More importantly he was now feeling a tingling sensation, if only he could locate it.

“I checked them twice.”

He’d narrowed it down to his left big toe.

“Where is Lifeline now?”

There was a moment’s pause as Natalie looked for the answer to this question, a moment on which Gibraltar wiggled his toe sending tingle up his leg. “Ok, she’s just climbing up to the beacon at the relay waterfall.”

“He’s waking up,” Natalie’s father said, panic rising in his voice. “She needs to climb très vite.”

The tingle was spreading like a water from a burst damn through his body. He was lying down - no, he was strapped down. He tried to struggle against them but he was too weak.

“She’s at the beacon now,” Natalie said excitedly.

Gibraltar opened his eyes and for a second he saw a shocked face staring down at him through a pane of glass then he blinked ...

He was standing on a drop ship, the doors were opening and he was almost knocked back by the gust of cold air that rushed inside. He could see the relay station below, and there was Ajay looking up at the ship, awaiting his arrival. He looked towards the wetlands, where he had died ... where he had been killed. “Here we go!” He said, punching his palm before taking a running leap.

He landed in the water with a splash. Ajay had opened the nearby supply bins and was sitting on the stone platform watching him. “Thanks brudda!”

“Thank me when we win,” she said impatiently, “now shift your carcass.”

Gibraltar stored everything that was available, luckily there was one gun, a prowler SMG as well as some reserve ammo. “How did you get out of there?” He asked, activating his shields.

“That dome shield of yours helped contain the gas even if it didn’t save _you_ , once we were outside, it was three on two ... four if ya count Mirage.”

“Who?”

“Elliott’s holomabob,” Ajay said with a dismissive wave.

“Haha that guy, I don’t know who I feel more sorry for; him or The Sarge,” Gibraltar joked as he remembered Sergeant Williams’s face when she realised she had been teamed with Elliott. “Did they make it out alive?”

“I was too busy saving my own skin,” she said. “We ought to get movin’ though, dis corner of the island is overcrowded.”

“Whatever you say, brudda, if wehead west to artillery, I’m sure there’s some guns and ammo there that Sarge and I didn’t loot.”

“Ya were there already?” Ajay asked with raised eyebrow.

“We slept there last night ... haha, that feels like a lifetime ago but I guess it was for me,” that tickled him and he was glad to learn that death had not taken his sense of humour.

“Sshh,” Ajay said. “Ya keep laughin’ like that and I won’t bring ya back next time.” He stopped laughing, knowing that it was not an empty threat. “I came through there last night,” she added, “I’m surprised I didn’t hear ya.”

“Haha, I’m surprised you didn’t either,” he replied with a low chuckle that he cut short at the sound of gunshots to the south. “That sounded like it was coming from the swamps,” he said, checking his map.

“Ya’re not ready for another gunfight,” she said, reading his mind. “I don’t think the west of the island has been explored since they introduced weapons, we’ll have our pick as well as some extra supplies.”

He couldn’t argue that he could do with some more ammo for his prowler as well as another gun, so he shrugged and they set out, being careful to stay clear of the wetlands in case their attackers from earlier were still lurking nearby. “What brings you here, brudda?” Gibraltar asked following quietly in her footsteps.

“I’m just tryin’ to correct some wrongs,” she replied vaguely. She was a very young woman and Gibraltar may have put this sentiment down to naivety but there was a cynicism and world-weariness in her voice that told him otherwise.

Nevertheless he was confused; “You think killing seven strangers on a deserted island will put things right?” He asked sceptically.

“Of course not,” she said in an indignant whisper. “But the prize money will.”

“How?” He said sceptically, seeing the naivety of youth for real this time.

“I’m not gonna tell ya, ya never know who’s watchin’,” she said, pointing to the sky. “What about you?”

“Me? I ...” Gibraltar reached into his mind for an answer but couldn’t find one. He shook his head, hoping to dislodge it from whatever crevice of his brain it was stuck in but nothing happened.

“Yes?” She said, turning expectantly.

“I...” He began again hoping the rest would follow naturally but it didn’t.

“Something’s wrong,” said a familiar female voice. Gibraltar looked left to find the source but there was nobody there.

“What’s wrong wit ya?” Ajay asked.

“Did you hear that?” He asked, looking to her suspiciously.

“Hear what?” She raised her gun.

“That woman.”

“I don’t understand!” Panic was rising in the female voice. “Papa, he’s regaining consciousness!”

“Hello? Who’s there?” Gibraltar called.

“Well, stop him, Natalie,” Came a male reply, presumably her father. The voices were somehow familiar.

“Watcha doin’‽” Ajay whispered through gritted teeth, “Ya’ll bring them all down on us.”

“We don’t know how that will affect him!” Natalie objected somewhere nearby.

“You know anyone named Natalie?” Gibraltar asked Ajay.

“Did he just-” came the man’s alarmed response. “Can he hear us‽ Shut him down now, Natalie!”

Gibraltar’s body gave up on him and crumpled to the grass with a hard thump. It was like someone had pressed the off button, in fact it sounded like they had. “Hey now, what’s wrong with ya?” He heard Ajay ask.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Papa” Natalie stuttered. “I’ve _never_ seen anything like this before. Something has gone wrong with the synchronisation.”

“Can you fix it?” her father asked brusquely.

“Not while he’s still on the island,” she said in a defeated tone.

“Gibraltar?” Ajay was calling him. _Ow_. She was slapping his face. “Gibraltar, can ya hear me?”

“Where’s the nearest enemy squad?” Her father asked.

“Bloodhound and Caustic are at the cascades.”

“Drop a care package here ... don’t look at me like that, Natalie, we cannot leave him on the island like this and we cannot pull him out. As soon as that gunfight in the swamps ends, the drones will move want the other contestants and they cannot see him like this?”

“What about Blisk?” Natalie whispered fearfully.

He sighed. “I’ll talk to Blisk, if anything, it will give me the chance to say ‘I told you so’. Can you reset his memories ?”

“Non, I can block them temporarily but I don’t know how that will affect him,” Natalie said while Ajay heaved and panted in her efforts to drag Gibraltar to some cover.

“Don’t drop the care package until he’s back, the audience need to see it as a fair fight ... even if it’s not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> This is my first work of fanfiction. 
> 
> I've tried to stay loyal to the characters and the world but I will be taking some liberties in order to tell this story. I'm a big fan of Apex Legends and the characters and so when I decided to set myself the challenge of writing for characters that weren't my own, it seemed like a good choice as the world posed a very intriguing set-up.
> 
> I welcome feedback (especially when it comes to tags and summary), otherwise what's the point of putting stuff out there. If you have read this far, thank you!


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